


Under Moonlight

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Drinking, Bottom Greg Lestrade, M/M, No Dialogue, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Mycroft, Vampire Mycroft, Vampires, Werewolf Greg Lestrade, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 13:13:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Vampires and werewolves weren't supposed to be like this with one another.





	Under Moonlight

Everyone knew that the vampires ruled London. The city was full of all sorts, from plain humans, to the hardy creatures that still lived in the Thames. Spirits lingered in the oldest buildings and fae worked in the skyscrapers. Werewolves tended to be more country folk, but there were a few packs in the city.

And above all this chaos and life, Mycroft Holmes was one of the most powerful vampires in the city, if not the country and beyond. It had been his focus for many years and few indeed would cross him. His life was ordered and settled… until it was not.

Everyone knew that vampires and werewolves barely tolerated one another. They socialized rarely, but as long as there was no challenge to vampire authority, they were left alone.

Which is why it still felt odd to Mycroft to wake in the evening and find Greg Lestrade dozing by his side.

Mycroft was aware that his stillness bothered Greg. That most werewolves stuck with their packs and often shared sleeping spaces. Mycroft was still as the death he’d been robbed of when he slept, no breath causing his chest to rise and fall. For all the years they’d been together, he always woke with Greg curled by his side, as if the werewolf were trying to share his breath and body heat with him. He knew sometimes Greg worried that he would not rise with sunset.

But Mycroft always did, as he had for almost a thousand years. He opened his eyes and took in the werewolf next to him. The moon wasn’t quite full, though Greg had long since mastered the ability to change at will. Mycroft leaned over and kissed him awake.

Greg smiled into the kiss and stretched, kissing Mycroft back.

Mycroft rolled on top of Greg, reassuring him with his body weight, deepening the kiss, running fingers through Greg’s hair.

Greg moaned softly and smoothed his hands down Mycroft’s back, clearly reveling in the attention.

Dropping his head and his fangs, Mycroft sank his teeth into Greg’s throat. Greg moaned again and relaxed underneath him. Mycroft didn’t drink from him every day, and was always careful not to take too much, but the taste of his lover was almost as intoxicating as his submission. 

Mycroft pushed down Greg’s pajama bottoms as he removed his teeth. Looking back at Greg’s face, the werewolf’s gaze was heated and hungry. Mycroft slid down and kissed his cock before giving it a lick.

Groaning, Greg handed him the lube, still watching. Mycroft could almost taste his quickly beating heart.

Mycroft coated his fingers, swallowing Greg’s cock as he began to tease him open. 

Greg writhed slowly, legs parting unconsciously as he opened for his lover. One hand landed on Mycroft’s shoulder, not pushing, simply grounding himself.

Shifting, Mycroft added another finger and bit down on Greg’s thigh. 

Greg gasped and drew his knees up, exposing himself delightfully. A soft whimper escaped his lips. 

Mycroft pulled back again and rolled Greg over onto his knees, how he liked to be mounted. Greg braced himself while Mycroft slicked his cock and lined up, carefully pressing in.

The noise Greg made was somewhere between a growl and a moan. Mycroft kissed the nape of his neck, offering silent reassurances as he covered him. His stilled heart ached with love and affection.

Greg’s hips pushed back against him, demanding, and Mycroft smiled. He adjusted Greg and started to take him hard, knowing just what his lover wanted. 

And Greg’s surrender was a beautiful thing, relaxing, trusting Mycroft to take care of him. Mycroft reached around for Greg’s cock, forcing him through his hand with every thrust. Soft pants and moans escaped Greg’s lips.

It couldn’t last long. Mycroft bit down on Greg’s shoulder, but not with his fangs. Greg cried out and spilled over Mycroft’s hand. 

Mycroft slowed his thrusts as he worked Greg through. Then he knelt back and grabbed Greg’s hips, taking him faster and harder still.

Greg cried out again, nearly howling with pleasure as Mycroft came. Mycroft groaned and pulled Greg back against his chest, peppering his neck with kisses before laying them both down on their sides. 

Carefully, Greg pulled away and rolled over, cupping Mycroft’s cheek and kissing him deeply.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go, everyone knew that. But since when had Mycroft followed everyone else? He kissed his lover in return. Vampire and werewolf, an unlikely match, but in their case, a complimentary one that somehow fit together perfectly.


End file.
